


A Smidgen of Trouble

by NyxieNoc



Category: Rat Queens
Genre: Danger, F/F, Group Sex, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxieNoc/pseuds/NyxieNoc
Summary: Betty goes to find a cave of magic mushrooms and finds that the cave is not empty.





	A Smidgen of Trouble

Betty waited until she was sure that her sleeping draught candy had worked on the others, and by the sound of Violet’s snores, it had worked quite well. The raid they planned to do at dawn might need to go on without her but she had important Smidgen business to attend to.

In the village today a Bard, too deep in his cups, had gone on and on in the booth behind Betty’s about an underground cave where, he boasted, “The most primo motherfuckin mushrooms I’ve ever had, man, I forgot my own name for three days!” grew. Betty took notes as he described the surrounding lands and how he had gotten into the cave nearly accidentally while wandering with minstrels.

Betty was all about mushrooms and didn't want to be told not to go to a random cave, nor asked to share the loot, so she doped the other Rat Queens with her magic knockout candy and, because she was the sneak, tiptoes soundlessly from the Inn and into the night.

She did not anticipate any nonsense on the way to the cave, but she still dressed to disappear. Her shoulder length blonde dreads tied back, her brown cloak low over her brow, her leather slippers as soft as feathers on the cobbles. Calf length leather britches and a sleeveless chemise served to keep her covered and warm in the brisk night. She glanced at her scribbled directions under each lantern she passed until there were no more. She came to the shore and found the landmarks the Bard had spoken of. She found, with the aid of the waxing gibbous moon the mouth of a cave, flooded by low tidewaters, but still accessible, if you were a Smidgen, that is.

It appeared she would have to swim or at least wade quite deep to the interior, so she stripped to her boots and folded the rest of her clothes into a bundle that she crammed into a rocky crevasse out of the reach of the tide. She stood nude in the moonlight, her tiny body lithe and supple, pert and attentive breasts gooseflesh, nipples erect from the chill of the night. These fucking mushrooms had better be good. She slung her leather bag over her shoulder and stepped into the mouth of the cave. 

She ended up on all fours before she could get past the mouth of the cave, her knees and shins and palms covered in sand when she finally got into a space she could once again stand in. The cave was warm and odd little bugs or moss or something glowed on the rock walls all around her. She made her way forward, her feet making as little noise as possible in the low water. The Bard had not mentioned cave inhabitants but Sneak was a way of life for Betty, so she snuck everywhere she went.

Clinging to the wall she made her way deeper into the cave. After twenty minutes and several declines in the trail she came upon a precipice that opened to a huge cavern with a high ceiling of stalactites over an enormous underground lake. On the other side, she glimpsed a wall covered in amazing looking sparkly purple mushrooms. Some of them looked as big as her. She figured on swimming overloading her bag, and hightailing it, but as she took a step forward to the edge of the precipice, she found herself in a blur of motion that made her squeak and when it stopped she discovered she had a snare around her ankle and she was dangling precariously from the high ceiling over the lake. 

“Fuck” she grumbled. Her hair hung down and her bag was about to be lost to the lake, so she fumbled the strap into something that would stay on her arms without falling off, the strap over the top of her breasts and under her arms, twisted once, and pulled over her head and tucked under one arm. She swung slowly by one ankle, naked as a newt. She tried, and failed, to crunch her upper body towards the rope and her ankle, either to get loose and swim, or to climb up to the top, but neither of those things were going to happen. So she swayed. 

She hung there for awhile. The rope seemed to be made of a velvety vine of some kind and it didn't dig into her flesh so she crossed the other ankle over the snared one and contemplated life for a long, long time. She wondered when she would pass out. At some point, she did...

She awoke to the skittering of pebbles on rocks and her eyes flew open to see a glowing blue body crawling along the stalactites with familiarity and agility. It was a feminine form, nude, hairless from head to toe, and with glowing eyes. It moved like an insect, or, no, a lizard...? Something. And it was upside down, crawling on the ceiling. 

“What the actual fuck?” Betty spoke out loud, forgetting herself, forgetting that this thing, whatever it was, was probably what set the snare she still dangled from. It must have realized she was alive when she spoke because it made its uncanny movements towards Betty and was soon on all fours looking right at her with a wicked bright white glowing grin. It giggled. Giggled.

“Who the fuck are you? Put me down, I just want to get out of here. Let me go!” Betty began, all spitfire. The blue creature just looked at her as if she were the most entertaining thing in the world. “GODAMMNITMOTHERFUCKINGGOBLINCOCKS! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN!” Betty screeched. 

The thing laughed. High and musical, settling to titters and covering its mouth with a long, elegant,.. hand? Flipper? In the low light it was hard to tell. Then it said something, not directed at Betty, and not in any language she had ever heard. The glowing around the cavern intensified as several more of these blue bodied creatures crawled from the shadows and approached Betty where she still dangled. Now Betty was scared. She should have been scared earlier than this she supposed but she had been too pissed off to be scared. But now, seeing their weird clamoring on the ceiling, noting that they seemed to have at least a few very sharp teeth, and realizing that no one knew where she was or how to find her, her pulse raced and she struggled not to breathe audibly. 

Her blood turned to ice when the first of the creatures reached out to stroke her face. The hand that touched her was webbed. Warm, slightly moist, like mossy rocks, but soft, soft as velvet. She flinched and trembled, her nipples erect with fear, and every hair on her body standing on end. The hand caressed her cheek and her neck, reached into her dreads to feel their texture, then began a course down her shoulders and towards her breasts.

“Hey fuck off!” Betty suddenly unfroze and swatted the hand away, meeting her green eyes with the creatures white, glowing, pupil-less gaze. “At least buy me dinner before you fucking grope me, creep.”

At this, a chorus of laughter rose from all around and bounced off the cave walls and the surface of the water. It sounded like singing, or a brook, or birds... or all of that. She scrunched her eyes shut in fury and tried once more to grab at the vine, to no avail. She fought back hot tears. Smidgen’s don't cry, not like this. 

Just then, the webbed hands grabbed the vine and horrifyingly began to swing it, and Betty was a pendulum over the water. She swayed in broad arcs, coming close to stalactites at many points. The tittering laughter filled the cave as she covered her face in her hands and tried not to scream. Then the vine began to twist and twist on itself, coiled tight and the creature let go and sent Betty spinning on its end, unravelling until the last kink, where it jerked her to a stop and began her swaying erratically again.

“Fuck this. Fuck this right now. Let me down, or fucking... eat me, you creepy blue bitches!” She shouted, eyes still tightly shut, trying not to puke. 

“Would you like to be eaten?” A purring, feminine voice spoke low into her ear. Betty opened her eyes, her breaths heaving and turned her head to see the creature smiling inches from her face. It smiled, fluttered it’s eyelids. It glowed. Betty’s eyes adjusted to take in the crouching form. It had a human female form, shapely legs, hips, a cleft between the legs not unlike Betty’s own, a soft belly, breasts with indigo blue nipples, and a face of fine fae features. 

“What the fuck are you?” Betty implored with astonishment. 

“We are water cave Dryad. We guard the sacred mushrooms. You are an intruder, Smidgen.” The voice was haunting and alluring at once. Betty found herself glamoured almost instantly.

“Im sorry. I heard about this place from some guy in a pub and he never mentioned any dryad guardians. Let me down and I will get the fuck out and never come back. Please.” Betty begged. 

“Oh that fool. He simply snatched and ran. We had no interest in him.” The dryad spoke nonchalantly, looking at the sheer webbing between her fingers as she stretched them open idly.

“But you do have interest in me? Is that what you're saying? You're only into eating Smidgens or something? Fuck. Fuck me. I just wanted some mushrooms, I did not plan on being devoured tonight, I had shit to do.” Betty whined in frustration.

“Oh yes, Smidgen, we would love to devour you.” The Dryad purred, reaching her webbed hand out once more to stroke Betty’s legs. The others tittered all around them. 

“Best get on with it I suppose” Betty sighed. She hoped they would have to put her down or untie her in order to eat her, maybe then she could make her move. She felt the vine lowering and saw the other blue dryads scuttling down the cave walls to meet her at the bottom. When she was a few feet from the rocky precipice, two dryads caught her and freed her ankle, but immediately put her in a bear hug hold, before turning and carrying her down a hall and setting her in a large empty basin carved out of the rock. They pulled off her bag and her slippers. They began to pour in warm water from earthen jugs, filling the basin. Betty was no longer bound, but she was surrounded and unarmed. Also, this water was nice. 

One dryad appeared holding a mortar and pestle carved from the same rocks as the cave, in it was one of the purple sparkly mushrooms, which she mashed into a pulp and poured into the water, stirring it with one webbed hand. May as well go out high as fuck, Betty mused. She scanned the room for an escape route as they added dark green herbs to the pot. They smelled amazing, but not like typical cooking herbs. These herbs smelled of night, and of women, and of sex. As the water rose to her neck, Betty couldn't help but notice that beneath the fear, beneath the strange annoyance she had towards dying in this cave, beneath the ignominy, below that and slowly rising, she was feeling...aroused. 

Betty was as gay as peanut butter, and if she were not fearing for her life she might have taken time to appreciate the sensuous curves that each of the six nude dryads possessed. Some were fuller figured. Others had expansive asses and narrow waists. Still others bore heavy breasts and soft bellies. She knew from their touch that their skin felt like the finest moss, velveteen and radiating damp warmth. Their blue flesh sparkled and glowed, bioluminescent in the darkness, only luminous eyes and teeth glowing brighter. 

She began to feel the familiar feel of mushrooms in her blood, and began to see tracers where eyes glanced and where teeth shone. Trails of light followed moving hands and bodies. Betty moved her own hand before her eyes and watches the wisps of white light that followed. 

The dryads busied themselves about the cave, speaking to each other in their language, stroking a small fire, laying thick swaths of moss on the surrounding ground. They weren't watching Betty or making sure she didn't get out. Betty tried but found that her limbs were both too heavy and too floaty, as was her head. She wanted to run, but she also did not. This bath, which had turned milky white, was really comfortable and she found herself sinking lower. 

A few more minutes, she thought. Then I’ll run for it.

But she did not. She killed her head back on the rim of the basin and allowed her hands to feel her body, softened and smoothed by the herbs in the pot. She drew deep breaths, inhaling the intoxicating smell, and smiling. She was smiling as she slowly cooked to perfection. Her hands grazed her breasts and found them sensitive. She idly twiddled her nipples, and why not, she was going to be eaten soon. May as well. She allowed her hand to travel down her belly and lower still, dipping into the warm, wet cleft between her thighs to find a swollen and attentive clit and a pool of wetness trapped between the lips. She took a furtive look around the cave, noted that the dryads were preoccupied, and sunk two fingers deep within herself.

WIth the stealth of a sneak she rubbed herself to a quiet, very restrained orgasm that no one noticed but her. As she recovered, concealing her heavy breathing, her eyes darted around the cave looking for a path out. The hardest part, she thought, would be getting out of the tub without making splashes. She mused on the best way while also feeling her body melt deeper into the tub. She was high, but not so high as to be immobilized or witless, just not at all motivated, even to escape her doom. Such a predicament to be in, Betty thought and she smirked her lips below the milky water. 

The business of the room lulled and the dryads wordlessly began to gather around the tub, reaching long arms in to stir the tub and occasionally touch Betty’s dreads or stroke a long finger down her neck.

“Smidgen,” the one who had first approached her on the ceiling stepped to the edge of the basin, ”are you now ready to be eaten?” She tilted her head inquisitively.

“Not at all. I'm fairly certain I'm not dead yet.” Betty answered, and then she giggled at her own response.

“Well I should hope not, we only want to eat you, as you offered. We don't want you dead for that.”

“At what point did I offer for you to eat me......Oh.” Betty paused. She had told them to eat her. Who knew dryads were so literal. “I meant eat my pussy, its an expression. It means, like, go away, fuck off, get bent,... uh...you know?” She struggled with words. 

“We’re Dryads, not idiots. We knew what you meant.” The leader quipped dryly.

“What.” Betty’s jaw dropped. 

“Are you dense? You said, and we quote, “let me go or eat me. We said eat you. You didn't think we were going to actually fucking eat your flesh did you? For fucks sake, we eat flowers and berries and mushrooms and shit.” Leader Dryad spoke hotly, but her face was smug and sardonic.

“Um” Betty stammered, mind whirring.

“Do you want to fuck or don't you?” The Dryad demanded.  
“Do I have to?” Betty asked.

“Of course not.” The Dryad folded her arms over her breasts.

“I can just go it I want?” Betty raised an eyebrow.

The Dryad heaved an annoyed sigh. “Yes. Any time.”

“Oh. Well.” Betty considered. “Sex sounds great actually. Ive never fucked a Dryad before. Do you fuck all the smidgens that come in this cave?”

“Only the ones that ask to be eaten.” 

****************************************************************************

The Dryads pulled her from the tub and lowered her to the warm glittering mossy carpet they had laid out. She sat cross legged, eyelids drooping, a soft smile played on her lips. She felt a warm fuzzy body with full breasts press into her back, rubbing circles into her tiny shoulders. Another pair of hands took one of hers, a third pair of hands took the other hand, and they softly stroked her skin and wiggled her fingers and rolled her wrists. A fourth body knelt in front of her and ran soft webbed hands over her thighs, gently tugging her legs uncrossed and spreading her legs. All at once, her shoulder were pulled back into a waiting lap, as the dryad before her lowered herself to her belly, tossing Betty’s thighs over her shoulders and bringing her mouth to Betty’s cunt. 

Betty felt hands softly trace her face and stroke her hair. The dryad between her legs slowly and softly explored her cunt, letting her dark blue tongue probe the folds and trace the mounds. Betty’s eyes flicked open and she saw a smiling face leaning over her own.

“Hey” she breathed, “this would be really great if you would sit on my face. Can we do that?” Gods, she was so high. The dryad nodded and lowered Betty’s head gently to the moss before straddling her face and lowering herself down. Betty grinned wide before tilting her mouth up to meet the dark blue pussy above her. It appeared the anatomy of a dryad was familiar and she was pleased to see that she was already wet and glistening.

From her hips she felt a long tongue penetrate her and she gasped before she plunged her own tongue into the pussy above her. This was almost perfect. Betty pulled her hands free of the other hands that held them, and snapped them quickly, three times, before crooking her fingers in the universal gesture for “I would like to finger you”, and immediately her hands felt another hand on each side guide her to their bodies where she crawled her fingers to the wet clefts of each dryad, and began stroking, finding them both wet and pliant.

Betty’s hips rolled against the mouth of the dryad at her cunt. Each roll propelled her to press her mouth deeper and more insistently into the pussy above her. Her fingers worked, and she felt those hips rolling against her hands, webbed fingers holding her wrists in place, the dryads fucked themselves with her fingers.

The cave was filled with a harmony of humming, a constant, flowery, buzzing sound, which Betty would come to learn was their mushroom sex mantra. Betty herself was moaning into the pussy on her face as the tongue in her own cunt brought her to the edge of orgasm before retreating, teasing, breathing over her skin, making her hips chase the touch. The pussy above her dripped into her mouth, the flavor like honey and salt. The thighs around her ears trembled and the hips ground down rhythmically. Betty was momentarily smothered by insistent flesh, the bucking wild, the slippery wet skin sliding over her mouth and nose until the hips stuttered and rode out the last waves of orgasm.

Abruptly, her vision was cleared and she squinted at the light that reached her once the water fairy was no longer sitting on her face. She knelt nearby, her skin glowing an electric blue from head to toe. She hummed a higher frequency than the others. Betty glanced left, then right, to see the dryads on her hands with their heads thrown back, hips pumping against her hands, their bodies beginning to glow brighter from the center outwards. 

And then, then Betty looked up to watch the dryad between her thighs and she licked her lips and sat up.

“Smidgen, you taste delicious. Would you like to be fucked?”

“Am I not already?”

“Oh, but we can offer you more..” she teased and glanced down to her lap, where Betty watched her magically sprout a thick phallus.

“Ye Gods, did you just grow a dick?” Betty nearly shouted in amazement.

“The water cave dryads have many adaptable qualities” she answered, stroking the phallus languidly, a teasing smile on her lips. 

“Well then hell yes!” Betty grinned. “But I'm on top. Im too little to be under you.”

They shuffled, Betty withdrew her hands from the other dryads and they rushed to each other to finish what she had started. She mounted the dryad with the mystical cock and slid her tiny body down. The phallus seemed to magical adjust in size to fit within her. 

Betty, ever the adventurer took advantage of the opportunity to ride wildly, squeezing blue breasts and kissing a blue neck and sucking blue lips between her own as her hips bounced with a slap that echoed off the cave walls. The humming built and Betty felt warmth in her center radiating out and her orgasm could be felt from the soles of her feet to her scalp and she could have sworn to the gods that light radiated from her fingertips and poured from her mouth as the dryad beneath her writhed and hummed.

Weak and high they pulled her free and carried her back to the warm stone bath and lowered her in again. 

“So, smidgen, will you return to the cave of the mushroom dryads?” The leader asked as she poured more warm water over Betty’s shoulders. 

“Could I bring friends next time?” Betty thought of the other Rat Queens, wondering how long she had been in the cave and if they had gone on the raid without her. 

“Only lady friends” the dryad smiled.

“That's all I have.” Betty smiled, sinking into the tub.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. Im filthy.


End file.
